


i'd walk to you if i had no other way

by spendon



Category: P!ATD - Fandom
Genre: Brencer, Long Distance Relationship, M/M, Spendon, brief mention of ryan and brent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 09:57:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2105409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spendon/pseuds/spendon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day when Spencer moved away, Brendon's small, eight year old world suddenly came crashing down in one giant avalanche.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'd walk to you if i had no other way

  The day when Spencer moved away, Brendon's small, eight year old world suddenly came crashing down in one giant avalanche. He cried when he saw those big, white trucks, with the word U-HAUL painted on it in red and black lettering.

  He cried as he watched Spencer wave at him through the windshield from the back seat, a pained expression on his face. Brendon thought he never wanted to see that look on his face again. He spent the entire night in his room, sobs racking through his entire body, too choked up to speak, ignoring his parents desperate pleas for him to come out and eat dinner, talk to them and his siblings, to come play a game of Monopoly or something.

  Ryan is pretty beat up about the whole thing, too, but he doesn't want to talk about it with Brendon. Brendon wanted to talk to him, to Ryan, who understood what he was feeling right now, not his parents, and he wouldn't listen. Instead, he made fun of him, snapped at him, called him "stupid" and a "dummy" for missing Spencer.

  Brendon would have none of that, however.

  After a week of sulking, he finally confronted his very worrisome parents, asking - no, begging them to help him find a way to talk to his friend again. His mother revealed that she had the Smith's new phone number, said that he could call him when the time was right, but that simply just wasn't enough for poor, little Brendon.

  He spent hours, well - okay, maybe it wasn't hours, but it sure felt like them to him - doing plenty of what he called research, when really he was just googling pictures of hamsters playing sports and talking about them, describing them to Spencer over the phone, until he somehow manages to stumble across this cool program called Skype.

  He does some reading on its website, with his limited reading ability, squinting in confusion at the words he didn't understand. By the time he's finished reading up about it and explaining his plan to his friend, Spencer had to hang up and go to bed, for it was late where he lived, leaving Brendon to think and to plot.

  The very next day is a Saturday, when Brendon doesn't have to go school for seven long hours. He tries to work this weird application, called "PowerPoint," and makes a very stupid presentation to show his parents, in Comic Sans, about Skype, how it was used, and how he and Spencer could finally not only just chat, but actually see each other with this cool thing called video call.

  Brendon's expressin is hopeful, a nervous, wide smile dawning on his face as his parents send glances back and forth to each other, doing that weird telepathy thing that Ryan and Spencer always seemed to do. Before Spencer moved away, that is, and before Ryan started to act like some big meanie butt-face, who didn't care about their bestest friend anymore. He was probably just jealous because Spencer most likely got to move somewhere cool, and he doesn't get to be there to experience it with him.

  "So can we download it? Pleeeaaaase?" Brendon pleaded, folding his hands together in a silent prayer that they would say yes.

  "Hmm..I guess so," his mom said, nodding with a slight smile curving at the corners of her lips. Brendon's face lit up, in a mix of delight and pride, hugging her tightly.

  "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He said, releasing his tiny grip. "I'm gonna call Spencer, and I'm gonna tell him, and he's gonna be so happy and it's gonna be so much fun, Mom, thank you so much! Can we set it up after I call him?"

  His mother and his father only laughed in reply, shaking their heads slightly, bemused, as they turned the television back on. Brendon raced to the phone, punching the numbers so hard that he ended up hurting his fingers.

  There was only a short wait of one, two, three rings before Spencer picked up. Before he could even say hello, he started talking.

  "Spence, Spencer, it's Brendon! My mom said yes, she said yes! Can you believe it? Did your mom say yes? What did she say?"

  "My momma said yes, too!" Brendon could only imagine the smile on Spencer's face, giggling quietly. "This is awesome, Brendon! We're gonna see each other! My mom already has one set up. What about you?"

  "I still gots'ta make mine, sorry, Spence."

  "That's okay!" Spencer said lightly, drumming his fingers against the back of the phone, soft enough that Brendon could barely hear it. "My name is celluloid heroes, and it's one word, not two. My mom came up with it for me."

  "Awesome," he said, grinning. "I'm gonna add you as a friend when I make mine, and we can do the cool video chat thingy! I'll make it now, so we can see each other quicker. See ya real soon Spencey-wencey!"

  He hung up after that, calling for his mom to come help him with the computer, ready to set up his Skype account. His username was simply "brendonurie," which wasn't as cool as Spencer's "celluloidheroes," but he didn't mind at all.

  Nervously, he typed in Spencer's user, clicking on 'Add Contact' with shaky, small fingers. The request was accepted almost instantly, and Brendon scrambled to click on 'Video Call.' Like on the phone, it took three rings before Spencer picked up.

  Brendon squealed in excitement when his best friend's face showed up, smiling right back at him. He covered his mouth, grinning like the idiot he was, looking around, unable to believe that this was actually happening. They talked for what felt like hours to Brendon before suddenly it was noon for him, and dinnertime for Spencer, who had to go.

  After he returned, they simply used the instant messaging, chatting for a couple more hours until Ryan decided he wanted to come over, and Spencer had to go to bed. Ryan, of course, didn't want to say hi.

\- - -

  For years, Brendon sat in front of his laptop each day after pre, elementary, and middle school, talking to the person who moved too far for him to hang out with. But he didn't let that stop him. He found a way to continue speaking with him, to continue being his friend, and grow up with him despite the saddening lack of his physical presence. Now that he started to begin high school, the whole "Spencer isn't actually here" thing was really starting to put him way too far down in the dumps for his liking.

  He walked home slowly, pulling the hood of his lavender jacket up over his head as rain poured down, hard, and heavy, and freezing cold. Brendon grumbled to himself as mud stained the cuffs of his jeans, getting caught between his shoes in chunks. After getting a detention, he was home around five thirty p.m, instead of the usual two forty-five p.m. He wondered if Spencer would still be awake, if he still had time to complain about how crappy his day was, how his teacher yelled at him for skipping English class (which was totally boring. Brendon could write on his own), and how he got a detention for it, which was why he was so late to return to his house and laptop.

  Only, before he could hide away in his room with his computer, he was faced with the ultimate obstacle. _Parents_. They yelled and shrieked and shouted at him about getting in trouble at school, about his _grades_ and his _future_ until he finally managed to get past their blockade, slam his door shut and collapse onto his bed. He could hear his mom yelling about how he tracked mud inside and onto the carpet, but he didn't care, he didn't want to care. The only thing he wanted was _Spencer_ , to talk to _Spencer_ , to be with _Spencer, Spencer, Spencer_ , who actually listened to him and cared and tried to fucking help.

  Brendon fidgeted and squirmed around on his bed until he found the charger for his laptop, plugging it in, then turning it on. As if it were routine, he opened up iTunes, put on his headphones, then opened Skype, clicking on Spencer's contact. The only other contacts he had were Ryan, Brent, and his grandfather, none of whom he wanted to speak with right now. They didn't care about him like Spencer did.

_hey, spence, u still awake or r u asleep_

_No, I'm here. What's up, Bden?_

_shit day @ school, had detention. parents yelled @ me 2, assholes_

_I'm here for you, buddy._

  The thing Brendon loved so much about Spencer was that he was always there, he never went to bed without talking to Brendon first. He was always there to reassure him, to comfort him, to ground him and keep him stable.

  He clicked on the green button when Spencer tried calling, waiting patiently for a couple of seconds for his video to load. He suddenly felt all his troubles, all his worrisome-thoughts wash away as he was met with the image of his sleepy, tired looking friend, already in his pajamas, his hair all tousled up (probably from having his head buried in his pillow). A strange feeling unfurled inside of his heart, pounding loudly inside his chest.

_Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum._

  "You wanna talk about it, Bren?" Spencer's soft, gentle voice rang clearly in his ears, Brendon's mouth going dry as he opened his mouth to try and respond, but it only came out as a mess of stuttering and random gibberish. Spencer laughed quietly, leaning in closer to the camera, a goofy smile on his face.

  "I'm sorry, but I can't understand you, buddy."

  _Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum._

  "Oh, uh, yeah. See, at school today, things went to shit when this kid started..."

  Brendon forgets how long he talked with Spencer last night. He knows he covered his crappy day, and listened to Spencer talk to him, calm him down and comfort him. He knows they went back and forth sending each other videos of cats being morons, getting stuck in odd places or just doing amusing things in general. He remembers Spencer talking about how his day went, about how his family is doing, how he's like freshman year, all that normal, typical teenage stuff that they never seem to stop chattering about.

  Coming back to his senses on a Saturday morning is never easy for Brendon until his mind is working again, until he has everything from last night pieced back together. He sits up slowly from being curled around his laptop, swiping his finger across the trackpad to exit it from it's sleep mode. He squinted at the screen, reading messages in the chat box from last night, nearing the end of their call, and after it.

  _Brendon?_

_Hey, you fell asleep, so I'm ending this call._

_You're so cute when you're sleeping, by the way (: < d: _

  Cheeks heating up to a rosy pink, Brendon typed a rather late, angry response, consisting of only an "D:<", then balling his hands into his fists, rubbing the post-awakening drowsiness out of his eyes, then desperately trying to push the blush out of his cheeks, only making it worse until he finally just gave up.

  The entire house smelled like eggs and bacon, which was a smell Brendon always loved waking up to. However, he was unsure as to whether or not he should venture downstairs, for fear that his parents would try and complete their unfinished, one-sided conversation (pardon, scolding) from yesterday before Brendon ran off.

  He prayed that he could sneak away later and steal what remains were left on the table after everyone was done eating, without getting caught. After all, a rule his household had was no food in your bedroom, and Brendon could not taking another ten minutes of yelling. If he did, he would explode, and then his parents would regret ever yelling at him, because _they_ caused him to explode, it was _their_ fault.

  Inside his head, he counted to ten, then counted backwards from ten, taking a deep breath, and exhaling. Spencer taught him that for whenever he needed to calm down and couldn't reach him at the time, which he was really grateful for. He tried listing all of the other things that he loved waking up to, aside from eggs and bacon.

  Like his room when he had a nightmare, for ome. Brendon wasn't one to idle on his freakish dreams, just glad that he could see it was fake, feel that it was fake, and go back to sleep, once more entirely relaxed, as though he had never even woken up.

  Or his alarm. As much as he hated getting up in the morning and facing reality, he adored the music that his clock played. He could set a playlist on it, and it would play something completely different each morning.

  He searched deeper in his mind, forcing himself to remember things he was fond of waking up to. The smell of coffee, finished homework... Oh, and one of his particular favorites...

  On rare occasions, both he and Spencer would fall asleep on call while studying or helping each other with their homework, or simply just chatting. On even rarer occasions, Brendon would wake up before him and see his worn out friend. Brendon thought of these times as peaceful. Spencer just looked so cute, so calm when he was asleep. He liked watching his chest or shoulders rise and fall with each and every slow breath that he took, until the feeling of guilt and creepiness overcame him, forcing him to decide that he had to hang up.

  He smiled at the thought, a hazy fog still swirling around his mind as he tried to wake himself up, ready to face the day, face his parents, face all of his other fucking miserable life-causing problems that he really didn't want to deal with, let alone so much as _think_ about.

  But maybe Brendon's really fucking stupid, okay, because he thinks that he can actually go downstairs and eat some food, drink some coffee in _peace_ without getting yelled at, and he was so fucking wrong about that. He's turned on by his parents, who decide, yes, they're going to pick up on their scolding from yesterday, they're going to make him feel like shit, and even worse? They're grounding him, they're taking away his laptop for a month, a whole _month_. And that means that he's going to have to go without talking to Spencer, too, unless he gets to keep his phone (which he doesn't, but he just steals it back from his parents).

\- - -

  Brendon gets kicked out of his home, his family, and his life by the time he's a senior, saying he doesn't want to go to college, that he doesn't want to be Mormon. Lucky for him, he has a job that makes just barely enough for him to pay rent for the apartment he's decided to take into his hands, since he needs a place to live, and to buy groceries. And by groceries, he means ramen, some juice, milk, cereal, and a few other things.

  Brent and Ryan chipped in on helping Brendon with moving out and "livening up the place," sending over some furniture, books, movies, occasionally money, plates and other kitchen utensils, oh how the list goes on. His place would've been pretty crappier than it is now without them, and he's thankful.

  His neighbors Wi-Fi extends into his apartment, so he uses that, and he's actually talked to them about it, so they're okay with it, thank whoever the fuck is out there, because Brendon sure doesn't believe in his family's "God." He doesn't use it for much, just talking to his friends, talking to Spencer, doing some research, watch some porn, and read up on SparkNotes from time to time.

  Spencer's started to become the highlight of every day Brendon goes through, seeing as each one just seems to suck more and more by the time he's graduated. At least he's gotten a raise at his job, but he doesn't think it's all that much. He has only a little money left over after shopping for food and paying rent, and it all goes into his piggy bank instead of using it to, as Brent likes to say, "treat yourself."

  Brendon's been searching for a new job for weeks on end now, desperately waiting for some kind of response to come. He's applied to at least three stores at the mall, but none of them have sent him any letters, any e-mails or given him a call. Nervousness eats away at him from the inside as he stares at the phone, sending glances to his laptop when he refreshes his e-mail. Still nothing.

  He gives up, closing his laptop, flopping down onto his bed.

\- - -

  Brendon lives inside of that shitty apartment for two more years, and during that time, he gets a better job than working at Smoothie Hut. He finally moves into a better place, finally can afford "treating himself." It's got three rooms (a living room, a bathroom, and a bedroom) instead of just one, which doesn't sound so great, but the living room has an extremely clean, moderately sized kitchen in the corner. And he has his own bathroom, too! No more sharing one down the hall with the neighbors he never bothered to try talking to.

  He doesn't get to share Wi-Fi with anyone, however, which is so far the one downside he's found in his new place, but it's not even that horrible. He's upgraded his phone to an iPhone, which is great, so he gets to FaceTime with Spencer every now and then when he's not at home with his (brand new) laptop.

  Spencer has to remind him that his twenty-first birthday is in two days, which is actually a pretty weird thought for Brendon. So much has been going on in his life that he actually forgot his own birthday, and it was probably the most life-changing birthday of all, the milestone that every teenager thought they looked forward to. Then again, it was typical nowadays for Spencer to tell him everything he's been forgetting, what with Brendon actually, y'know, _working_ and _having a life_ and _definitely not needing his parents._

  _I have a really good present for you_ , Spencer typed, gliding his fingers over the keyboard. _I think you're going to like it._

  _o rly what is it_ , Brendon replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

  _I can't tell you yet! But it'll get to you soon._

_cmon spence b a person tell me_

_Nope._

_spence pls cmon_

  Spencer stopped replying after that, and Brendon pondered on what he had in mind for him. Sure, he'd sent him stuff in the past; letters, candy, magazines, CD's, Kinder eggs, things like that, and he'd done the same. He'd mail him lego sets (which Spencer very much enjoyed), drumsticks, records, and hard drives with music he tried writing. He tried sending him elephant figurines, but Spencer announced that they were always shattered when they got to him, no matter how many packing peanuts and bubble wrap Brendon put the mailing package.

  He messaged him one, two more times before giving up.

\- - -

  The next morning isn't the best for Brendon. His alarm woke him up later than he wanted to wake up today for the most ungodly reason, his coffee machine broke, he ran out of his favorite cereal, and he feels like a whiny teenager for being upset that Spencer hasn't messaged him back yet. He _knows_ Spencer is eight hours ahead of him, and he isn't doing anything because Spencer _always_ tells him what he's doing the day before so Brendon doesn't worry somethings up.

  Just when he's about to start panicking, wonder if something happened to Spencer, there's a knock at his door, and he's thinking, who the _fuck_ thought it would be a bright idea to bother him at eleven in the fucking morning, when he hasn't even had a chance to go out and get some coffee from Starbucks since his machine isn't working, when he hasn't even had breakfast, and -

  "Motherfucker," Brendon flung himself at the man in front of him when he opens the door, hugging him as tightly as he can, because this isn't one of his neighbors, or his landlord telling him he's getting kicked out, or Ryan deciding to be a huge bitch, or his father coming over to continue that argument from three years ago, no, it's Spencer.

  He climbs him like a tree, and, whoa, when did Spencer get taller than him, when was Spencer able to hold him, and when the fuck did Brendon cup Spencer's cheeks in his hands and start kissing him? And when did Spencer put his arms around him, his blue eyes were wide and rounded, then closed as he started to reciprocate the kiss, lips warm and soft against Brendon's.

  Brendon was the first to pull his head away, breaking out into a wide grin as he buried his head in the crook of his neck, his mind just screaming _Spencerspencerspencer_ , because holy shit, he's actually _here_ , he's here in America with Brendon in Brendon's apartment, and Brendon _kissed_ him and he _kissed him back_. His heart is racing, he's getting that feeling from when he was a teenager again, that little _ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum_ inside his chest and he can finally recognize it this time, it's fucking love.

  "Spencer," Brendon squeaked, hugging him tighter, because he's definitely not crying, this totally isn't the best moment of his entire fucking life.

  "Brendon," he laughed, his blush beginning to fade, setting Brendon back down to his feet. "It's so - fuck - it's so great to see you, holy shit." Spencer couldn't help but press another kiss to Brendon's lips, and he felt so guilty for wanting it to last longer.

  Brendon stepped back, "Spencer, you're here! You're actually here, in person, in my apartment."

  "Yes, I am, I'm - happy early birthday, Brendon," Spencer said, running his fingers through his hair nervously, "this is what i was talking about yesterday. I promise that I'll get you a real present, though, sorry."

  He shook his head vigorously. "No, no, dude, you don't have to buy me anything, I'm super serious, that plane ticket must have been so fucking expensive, and this is the best present I've ever gotten, Spence, really." He rubbed at his cheeks, trying to stop his seemingly never-ending smile. "What time did you leave...?"

  "The flight was at nine, but it takes an hour to get to the airport from my place, so I left at eight. And now it's, uh, eleven something, apparently," Spencer yawned tiredly, continuing, "but I'm pretty sure that it's like, seven p.m. there, now." "You must be tired, dude."

  "Yeah, I am, but no way am I missing out on an entire day with you," he grumbled, crossing his arms stubbornly. "As much as I'd like to nap."

  "We can nap together," Brendon said hurriedly, "on my bed." Upon realizing what he'd just said, to his best friend (but did he really want him to stay as that? He did kiss him, after all), his face went beet red, hands flying up to cover his cheeks.

  Spencer only gave him an unreadable look, and laughed. "Sure, Bren," Spencer said in a rather teasing and light tone, nudging Brendon's side with his elbow lightly. "We can take a nap together, as long as I'm still with you, and not wasting this precious time together on sleeping."

  "How long are you here for...?"

  "Two weeks."

  "Yeah, right, c'mon bud. We're taking a nap."

\- - -

  Spencer barely remembered anything about Las Vegas from when he was a kid except for the school that they attended together (before he moved away). Brendon had to show him around, tell him about all the things that changed, introduce him to all the new places that had opened up or been built. One would think that Spencer was a tourist (even though technically, he was), what with all the pictures he was taking of everything to cherish and show his family.

  Brendon took Spencer to the park they used to visit. Not much had changed except for the gazebo was torn down and replaced with a newer one that wasn't slowly crumbling, piece by piece, into nothingness. He brings him back to the duck pond, pointing at several family's of ducks that he's fed pieces of his sandwiches to.

  When they swim and waddle over to the pair as they crouch on the little beach, peering at the fishes that swam in the water, Brendon took time to explain how there was this one mama duck who _hated_ him, because he may or may not have tried to kidnap one of its ducklings for a pet.

  Spencer just shakes his head, smiles, and laughs that stupid fucking laugh of his that Brendon definitely hasn't fallen in love with. He calls Brendon silly, and throws a piece of the bread that they brought with them to the park out to the very same fucking duck that wants to snap Brendon's achilles tendon.

  "Don't feed her!" Brendon squealed, backing up. "You traitor!"

  "She's not doing anything, B," he shrugged, tossing her and her now older ducklings that followed her up onto shore more bread. "Seems pretty chill to me. She just wants her motherfuckin' bread crumbs."

  "She's _evil_ ," he spat, folding his arms over his chest, pouting. "She's evil, she wants to rip my balls off, and you're supporting her."

  "I don't think so, Brendon," Spencer rolled his eyes, flinging a slice of bread at him. A couple of ducklings raced over to Brendon's feet, quacking at him, looking up at him with those pleading, beady eyes.

  He _hmmped_ , tossing some pieces to the ground. Slowly, he squatted back down on the sand, scattering bread everywhere. The mama duck made her way over to him, picking up chunks of bread as she went along. Hesitantly, he held out a piece between his fingers, to which she, in a rather grateful manner (for a duck, that is), pecked it out of his hands, giving out a rather loud and content _honk._

  "See, Bren? She doesn't hate you anymore."

  "Shut up, you big dork."

\- - -

  The first half of the week passes a little too quickly than Brendon wanted it to, despite how he savored each and every moment with Spencer as if it were his last, because he knew this wasn't going to be the last time he saw him, even if it meant he spent all of his "treat yourself" savings on a plane ticket to Europe.

  Brendon's birthday comes, and goes out like a candle, and he and Spencer did not have the greatest, hottest sex of all time, but really, they did. And Spencer did not spend all morning secretly searching for the most expensive, quality restaurant he could on his iPhone to take Brendon out to dinner to, and he most definitely did not make Brendon the most delicious birthday cake he's ever had.

  Now they're laying on the couch together, or rather, Spencer is on the couch, and Brendon is kind of on top of Spencer. He's rolled Spencer's shirt up, kissing his stomach, up, up, up, to his chest, and then his face, his lips, grinning like the moron he is.

  But when he goes back down, he pulls a whole new level of jackassery.

  Brendon blows a raspberry on Spencer's tummy, ripping a shriek of laughter out of his throat, getting shoved off. They're both lost in a fit of giggles, Brendon throwing himself back on top of him, digging his fingers into his sides, tickling him until Spencer's face is red and he feel like he can't breathe anymore.

  "You," Spencer pants as the cherry color in his cheeks begins to die out, "are a fucking asshole, and I hate you."

  "You could never hate me. You love me," Brendon grinned smugly, tracing small circles into Spencer's hips (his hips, oh, his fucking hips, Brendon wanted to stare at them for hours and leave hickeys on them _everywhere_ ) with his thumbs. "Because I'm your boyfriend, and you're not allowed to hate me. It's the boyfriend code."

  "Is it, Bren?" Spencer questioned, settling his hands on Brendon's thighs when Brendon straddles him, a playful yet suggestive smile on his face. He slowly slides his hands around to his backside, shoving his hands into Brendon's back pockets, quirking a brow.

  "Sure it is," he nodded, leaning down to kiss him, experimentally grinding his hips down into Spencer's. Spencer gave out a soft whine, low in his throat, rocking back into Brendon needily, his kisses growing desperate.

  "Yeah, Spence, c'mon," Brendon mused on, cheeks flushing, eyes darkened with lust. "Lemme hear you."

\- - -

  "You made me breakfast," Brendon threw his arms over Spencer's shoulders, clinging to him tightly, wrapping his legs around his waist. Spencer stumbled from the sudden change of balance, grasping onto the countertop to steady himself, prevent him from falling (and taking Brendon down with him, he though absently). "You're officially the best boyfriend ever."

  "Bren, you're gonna make me burn the French toast if you don't get off!" Spencer whined, trying to shake him off of his back.

  "I can get off," he mocked, pressing a kiss to Spencer's neck.

  "You're an actual eight year old."

  "Pedo," Brendon grumbled, sliding off of him, heading out of the kitchen area to the dining table, sitting down.

  "Be quiet, I'm making you food, and this is how you thank me?" Spencer gasps, faking his offense as he shook his head. "Horrible. Just disgusting."

  "I love youuuuu."

  "Yeah, yeah, I love you too, B."

\- - -

  Two weeks ago, Spencer James motherfucking Smith, probably the sweetest, funniest, most adorable person in the world, showed up at the door to Brendon Boyd Urie's apartment, with a suitcase full of luggage and a smile that lightened up his world. Two weeks fast forwarded from that very day, it was just like when he was a little kid again, his heart cracking, shattering into a million pieces, ending up all over the floor, poking at everyones feet when they stepped on the tiny remnants.

  Today, Spencer was going home.

  Brendon didn't want to be the one who helped him pack his things, gather everything and stuff it back into his bag as neatly as one could whilst trying not to cry their eyes out. But he was.

  He didn't want to be the one who had to start their car, to drive Spencer to the airport so he could catch his flight. But he was.

  He didn't want to be the one who Spencer kissed goodbye. But he was.

  "Spencer," Brendon whimpered, cupping his cheeks, pressing his forehead against Spencer's, eyes teared up. "Please don't go. You don't have to go, you can stay with me, really, I'm completely fine with it."

  "I have to go back home, Brendon. I have a job, and my family - my dad... They need me back home, B."

  "I need you," he choked out, hugging him tightly. No, he's not going to in front of all these people, definitely not. But he was being so selfish, Spencer had things going on at home, and he wanted him all for himself and man, Brendon felt like he was such a complete fucking asshole for acting like this.

  "I know, B, I know. I'll visit you again soon, I promise, but I really have to catch my flight."

  "Call me when you get home."

  "I will," Spencer gave him one last kiss before going through the hall that led to the plane, looking over his shoulder once, then disappearing behind the now closed door.

  Brendon slumped in the airport chair beside the viewing window, staying behind rather miserably, watching planes take off, including Spencer's. He stuck around for another hour before deciding he had had enough of watching family's and couples get torn apart, listening to other peoples sobs of heartbreak.

  He drove back home, crashed onto his bed in tears, and decided that he would take a long, well-deserved nap.

\- - -

  Three years ago, Brendon saw Spencer for the first time ever since he moved away. They started dating, their relationship continuing on even after Spencer had to return home to his family and help out. Brendon made up with his parents after that, deciding that he needed to talk to them, that he needed to make things right.

  Two years ago, Brendon flew to Europe for the first time to visit Spencer (for a week) and met his family all over again. His sisters were so much older, more mature, and his parents were so...well, older, too. Now he was the one being a tourist, getting shown around, introduced to all the places that Spencer liked to go to, as well as his workplace. He even showed him the school he graduated from.

  One year ago, Spencer moved back to Las Vegas, and into Brendon's apartment.

  Eight months ago, Spencer and Brendon got engaged.

  Today, two family's were gathered together in the park, benches and flowers set up around the gazebo, two mother's teary-eyed with smiles on their faces, two father's chattering the time away. Siblings conversed together, mixing in with family friends, spewing greetings and other topics. They listened to the music that was playing, switching from classical to alternative, back and forth, to and fro.

  Today, Brendon Urie and Spencer Smith got married.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u to tumblr user wentzfam for being my beta!!! i wrote this for tumblr user brendonboydurl, idk either of their ao3's oops but yEAH HAVE THIS


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